For Marcel Cohen, the adventure of writing is the risk worth taking, one that gives his life both its flavor and logic. Duly noting that in view of the events between the two World Wars of the twentieth century, our biography no longer represents us, Marcel Cohen writes on all sorts of facts. Going where words lead him, with eyes wide open and body in motion, traveling around the globe from wall to wall, be it of waves or lamentations, he dedicates himself to rendering these facts legible, in the order and for as much as his reader will conced to them, and cares about acknowledging his sources. By « absolute literality », he aims at this obscure real « that blinds us ». It's the price he pays for being part of his epoque, giving the book its material of silence and the vast range of its incomparable flavor.
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« In speaking of my biography, I evoked the weight of the Shoah, but not having known the camps, and much too young at the time to understand the events themselves, how could I talk about them ? I only know about these events through books. I'm in the situation of being able neither to speak, nor to be silent, all the while continuing to believe in the powers of the written word. » (À des années-lumière, Fario, Paris, 2013, p. 27).
To persevere in the esthetic of waste, following Joyce and Beckett, such is the path chosen by Marcel Cohen to save the honor of literature.
After the Wepler Prize and the Caillois Prize, the Jean Arp Prize for French literature has just been attributed to him for « the whole of his work, unclassifyable by its form that escapes the narrative and the essay, as it does poetry, and is eminently classical in its sobriety and its elegance ».
Translation : Julia Richards